Atrocious Stories
by fourthiv
Summary: It was the end for everything around him, and all Draco could do was laugh. For in his final moments, all he saw were shades of Cinnamon Brown. Sequel to Such a Lovely Color For You. R&R my lovelies.


**Atrocious Stories - Fourthiv**

**Disclaimer - I do not own anything Harry Potter related. That, and the lyrics are by A Perfect Circle, from the song "The Noose"  
Well, Its been a long time since I've written anything Dramione, or HP, related. So, I give you the sequel to Such A Lovely Color For you.  
I had a hard time writing it, but, alas, inspiration hit me. So, enjoy!  
**

**bold thoughts**  
_italics flashbacks_  
underline Lyrics  


* * *

So glad to see you have overcome them.  
Completely silent now  
With heaven's help  
You cast your demons out

Explosions, drowning out the screams of the injured and dying, could be heard for miles.  
The great war had finally come.  
The unknown fate of the wizarding world was coming to a close, and soon the victor would be decided.  
The war had been going on since dawn, nearly 24 hours ago.  
Sitting in the stifling darkness of his home, Draco Malfoy did all he could to drown out the sounds of chaos.  
Glancing at the clock beside him, Draco sighed. He should be out there fighting with his men, watching the atrocities of human nature. But that is not what he was meant to do in this war.

Until his part comes, he waits.

**Our Father, who art in heaven hallowed be thy Name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven...**

And not to pull your halo down  
Around your neck and tug you off your cloud  
But I'm more than just a little curious  
How you're planning to go about  
Making your amends to the dead  
To the dead

"_Choris Efialtis!"  
The darkness of the room was suffocating him, drowning him. Watching the girl not 10 feet before him, Draco did all he could to feel nothing. She was enticing, entrancing, and he felt his reserve breaking.  
Unknown feelings swarmed his being as his enemy, the one who stood up for what he hated, was degraded and humiliated in front of him, and yet she still remained stoic._

Gripping the glass beside him, Draco lifted it and drank heavily of it's contents. The burning sensation that gripped him also caused a sweet warmth and euphoria.  
Swirling the liquid within the antique crystal glass, Draco stared out into the dark abyss of his mansion.  
Lost in the memories of the past year, Draco failed to notice the room becoming instantly illuminated.  
Yet, somewhere in the distance he could hear his name being called.

Recall the deeds as if  
They're all someone else's  
Atrocious stories

_Beaten, bloody and raw, Hermione was in her perfect element. Draco watched as her stoic reserve and fiery passion never left, no matter what she was to undergo.  
Time seemed to slow just for him, just for this moment. The laughs of the death eaters around him became non-existent. All that was there was him and Hermione.  
Watching her torture and her resolve made Draco feel. He could not describe it, for it was foreign.  
All he understood was feeling.  
A slight bump from next to him shook Draco out of his reverie. He watched as his own father removed a particularly nasty curse from Hermione.  
His time was drawing near. It was time to prove himself to the cause._

A violent shake drew Draco away from the memories of his past, and back into the present.  
Glancing in front of him, Draco saw one of his servants bowing before him.

"Please excuse me for the intrusion, Master Malfoy, but it is almost time for you to depart to the war grounds."

Without a glance or any sign that Draco heard him, the servant left. Glancing at his Fire Whisky, Draco emptied its contents in one gulp. The burn was just what he needed before the fight.  
Glancing at the clock, Draco saw that it was indeed time to go.  
Haphazardly setting his glass down while standing up, Draco swayed at the failed attempt. The sound of shattering glass registered somewhere in his mind, but it was unimportant to him.

Doing his best to collect himself, Draco grabbed the wand beside him and left the room as quickly as possible.

**Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.**

Now you stand reborn before us all  
So glad to see you well  
And not to pull your halo down  
Around your neck and tug you to the ground

_Walking through the dungeons of the Malfoy Manor were like trying to make your way through a maze. Luckily for both himself and Goyle, they were familiar with the decrepit place.  
Levitating the body behind them, the two men made their way through the endless tunnels.  
They had to dispose of the body in the most proper fashion._

It seemed that at the worst, yet best, moments of his life, Draco always found himself in the tunnels below his mansion. Last year was the murder of the Mudblood Granger. This year, the Great war. The final fight that would determine the future of the Wizarding World forever.  
If their side won, Draco would be revered as a hero for his entire life.  
The prospect, as enticing as it may have seemed, was empty and hollow to this man. The man who has everything, but lives in a never ending memory.  
The correct path through the tunnels to the specific Dungeon that he was looking for were taken in a programmed like fashion.  
Finally, after a few minutes of walking, Draco found himself where he needed to be.  
Glancing around, Draco found what he was looking for.  
The key to winning the war.

**And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.**

But I'm more than just a little curious  
How you're planning to go about  
Making your amends to the dead  
To the dead

_While staring into the cinnimon-like orbs in front of him, Draco found himself falling deeper and deeper. Here he was, sitting on top of her, ready to kill her, and all he could do was stare into her eyes.  
Tossing his wand aside, Draco rested his hands upon her throat. He did this all without ever breaking eye contact.  
Gazing up at him, Draco could have sworn he saw her smile and give a slight nod. As if it was okay.  
Slowly, he pressed down. He watched as she turned different shades of color, one more beautiful than the last. And in the moment before she died, Draco saw the truth. She knew that with his choice, he would be haunted forever._

The screams and explosions, albeit loud as they were before, were deafening now.

Stalking through the battlefield as a man with a purpose, Draco saw his fellow Death Eaters around him finish their battles quicker than they would have.  
With his sudden appearance to the war, Draco's comrades knew what was coming.  
The Death Eaters closest to him formed a protective circle around him as he stalked through the battlefield, looking for his prey.  
Finally he made it.  
Finally he found what he was looking for. The Boy Who Lived.  
They say to truly kill a man, you need to break his spirit first.  
Harry Potter's spirit was torn and beat, but not quite broken.  
Not yet.  
That was Draco's job. Break the Boy Who Lived, win the war.

With your halo slipping down  
Your halo slipping  
Your halo slipping down  
Your halo slipping down  
I'm more than just a little curious  
How you're planning to go about making your

Tossing the object to Harry's feet was enough to get his attention. Everything around them seemed to stop. All the Death Eaters knew what was to come. They all knew not to interfere.  
Standing before him, Draco began to slur the words of his speech, memorized syllable by syllable.  
It was a beautiful cacophony of words laced with poison. The truth, spitting acid-like fire upon the boy who lived. He was sucked into it. The truth of _her_ death. The truth of it all.  
This man, this boy in front of him, was the one to destroy her untainted beauty. He was spiraling down into the abyss that Draco drew him into.  
All for the hope that the boy would break.  
No one ever expected the unadulterated truth, the object thrown to his feet, would make his resolve stronger.  
No one ever expected that outside of the murder of Voldemort, Harry would use the Dark Arts, least of all Draco.

"This is befitting for you, Malfoy. All the suffering you've ever caused, all the people that you've killed; this is what you deserve. Enjoy as your body slowly decays from the inside out."

Smirking as he hit the ground, Draco knew it would finally end. As painful as it was to him, he wouldn't let it show. His end, as unwanted as it was, would be just like hers. The girl that haunts him.  
Knowing that no one would put him out of his misery, Draco lay on his back, gazing into the starry, smoke - filled sky for the last time.  
Whispering the words that had filled his head all night, Draco felt the pain coarse through his body.  
Faintly, he could hear the screams ebb around him, as a deafening silence enveloped him. Only two voices could be heard.  
Finally.  
Voldemort versus Harry.  
Good versus Evil.  
It was the end for everything around him, and all Draco could do was laugh. For in his final moments, all he saw were shades of Cinnamon Brown.

**For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever...  
Amen.**

Your halo slipping down to choke you now

* * *

Story by: Fourthiv 

Song by: A Perfect Circle


End file.
